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I shut the door behind me with a snap, then walk into the front yard and out onto the sidewalk. Olivia hesitates, standing on the porch with one hip popped, her hand on in. “Are you serious right now, Cashy?”
“Stop calling me that.”
She rolls her eyes then comes down to meet me. “We’re just going to stand here on the sidewalk and hash it out? You can’t even invite the mother of your own child into the house to have a grown-up conversation?”
“You are not Alex’s mother,” I say. “You signed those rights away to me. And you agreed you would not come looking for her by court order.” I’m trying to remain calm if only for Alex and June’s sakes. “You will not drift in and out of Alex’s life. You will leave because you have no legal ground to be here.”
“Cash, come on.” She stamps her foot like she always did when she didn’t get her way. The same way she did on the day we broke up after I found her in bed with Kev. “You can’t just kick me out. You have no idea how hard this has been for me too. You of all people should know that after what I went through when we were kids. My parents abandoned me. And when I fell pregnant, I didn’t know how to handle it. So, I fucked up. Everybody fucks up.”
I take a breath. I’m not into this manipulative bullshit. She pulled the same thing with me whenever she messed up. It was always an excuse. Deep down, Olivia is desperate for love that she’ll never get because she doesn’t allow it to happen. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. “When Alex needed a mother the most, you weren’t there. And it will stay that way. Now, get lost before I call the cops.”
“The cops,” she says.
“That’s right. Court. Order.”
Still, Olivia hesitates. She folds her arms, trying to press her breasts upward. “You know I wouldn’t come here unless it was absolutely necessary. I’m not even going to mention how weird it is that you and June are living under the same roof, but—”
“Don’t talk about June.”
“Whatever,” she trills. “Look, the truth is, I need your help. I need money, and—”
“Enough. I offered you everything you needed. I begged you to stay in Alex’s life, but that time is done. Leave now or I’ll call the cops.”
Olivia’s angry, but she knows she’s beat. She can’t be here without getting in trouble with the law.
“Fine,” she says, “fine.” She lifts her hands in supplication. Finally, she saunters off down the street. There’s no car in sight, which is worrying. Where the fuck did she come from?
I exhale into the night sky, tucking my hands into my pockets, the reality of what just happened hitting home. Alex and June are upstairs waiting for me, and I turn toward the house and start walking.
Olivia made her choices, and they included drugs, alcohol, and my bandmate. Her needing money isn’t my problem anymore. But it enrages me that she would endanger Alex by coming here.
Upstairs, I find June brushing Alex’s hair.
The two of them look up at me expectantly. One pair of green eyes, clouded with worry, the other pair blue and curious.
“Who was that, Dad?” Alex asks.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” June says, scooting off the bed and setting Alex’s hairbrush on the bedside table.
I almost want to stop her, but this is a conversation I should have with my daughter in private.
June sweeps past me, carrying her intoxicating citrus scent, and I breathe her in. She’s the opposite of Olivia in so many ways. Her attitude, personality, her strength, and loyalty. I made the wrong woman a mother and it’s bullshit, but I can’t go back in time and change it now.
I sit on the edge of my daughter’s bed and take her hand, noting how much bigger it is than it used to be. I remember the first time she held my finger, her tiny chubby hand wrapped around it, her eyes closed in her bassinet. I knew then that I would do anything for Alexandra, and that feeling hasn’t abated or changed. No matter the years of sacrifice or the hard times or the attitude.
“Was that my mom?” Alex asks shrewdly. “That blonde lady?”
“That was her,” I say. “Your biological mother.”
“Why was she here?” Alex asks. “I don’t get it. It’s not like she ever wanted to see me before, so why now?”
I don’t want to lie to my daughter, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings either. “I’m not sure what her real intentions are, but she’s not allowed to be here. You remember what I told you, right?” I’ve been an open book with Alex about this. “She’s not allowed to come here because she chose that, but it’s not a reflection on you.”
“I remember, Dad,” Alex says. “And I know it’s not about me, it’s about her.”
I’m struck by the wisdom of my eleven-year-old.
“I have you, and I have June,” Alex says slowly. “And Daisy and her moms too. If she’ll ever talk to me again.”
